La Caza Empieza
by greetingsfrommaars
Summary: A series of short scenes for characters' birthdays. Most recently: Dordoni experiences death by furniture, courtesy of Cirucci Sanderwicci.
1. January 1 - Shihouin Yoruichi

_This will be a series of short scenes written for each Bleach character whose birthday I keep track of. This series will run alongside some others I hope to start for other animes._

* * *

><p><strong>January 1 - Shihouin Yoruichi<strong>

"I have something to announce," declared an annoying voice from overhead. Fireworks fell in dazzling arcs in the distance.

The cat looked up, tail undulating back and forth. She meowed.

"Yoruichi, I'm not one of the kids. I know if it's really you or just a black cat," insisted the shopkeeper with an exaggerated pout.

"_Meow_…"

Urahara stared at the cat at his feet. She blinked at him.

"So, Kurosaki and the crew met for New Year's?" continued Urahara.

The cat lifted a dainty paw and began washing it thoroughly with her tongue.

"And I suppose you followed them all the way through Karakura."

Finding this paw clean enough for her standards, the cat switched to her other front paw.

"Did they see you?"

The cat glared. "What do you take me for, a Stealth rookie? Really, now, Kisuke."

"Anyway, I said, I have something to announce," the man replied, grinning and flourishing his fan in the air.

Yoruichi waited.

"I know that you like spending your birthday stalking other people… but I thought, hey, Yoruichi should hone her stalking skills all the time, not just when she runs away from the shop for special occasions! And since it's, well, a once-in-a-year kind of occasion today, I thought I'd go out on a limb and give you something…"

One pointed ear twitched. Suddenly, Kisuke had her full attention. A new reishi cloak? Some nice concealed blades? A set of super-reinforced armor! A—

"A dummy for you to practice pouncing on!"

A small shape emerged from his pocket and dropped to the ground in front of Yoruichi. It squeaked.

It was roughly teardrop-shaped, with a string on the rounded end, and two half-cups towards the pointy end…

A toy mouse.

"I saw it in the holiday gift catalog that department store always sends us for no reason! It's premium rubber, so my cat definitely won't sink her teeth into it and accidentally swallow pieces of it. See, I can pull on the tail like this, and it bounces around, inviting my cat to come and bat at it! It even has a little compartment for catnip…"

In a true testament to her stealth, Yoruichi darted towards him in a dark blur. Kisuke heard a horrid squealing sound.

Yoruichi had gone for the kill.

A pile of rubber shreds lay at his feet.

-mm-

_Notes: I imagined what Yoruichi would do to celebrate her birthday, since it does happen to New Year's Day, and somehow I ended up with stalking people and hanging out with Kisuke. I vaguely remember an anime episode for either New Year's or Christmas, too, where Ichigo and the crew met up because Orihime was lonely but didn't want to trouble the others..._

_In any case, a Happy New Year to everyone, and thank you for reading!_

_Next up is Rukia. Also, any alternate title suggestions would be lovely. My current title plan is to just go _Bleach_ style and choose something random in Spanish._


	2. January 14 - Kuchiki Rukia

**January 14 - Kuchiki Rukia**

The harsh keen cleaved through the cool air, ringing out in the empty alleyway. The figure in chains howled towards the unforgiving skies, before a searing flame choked the sound from its throat.

Still writhing in agony, the damned soul disappeared behind the infernal adamantine doors.

The gateway to Hell slid shut with a subtle _click_.

Kaien could still feel the scream reverberating between his ears. With an exasperated frown, he smacked one side of his head, keeping his other hand on his zanpakutou. That Hollow had been a nasty one—a ridiculous number of tentacles that kept multiplying as if the soul were a hydra, a hidden store of nasty poisonous goo that had splattered all over the alleyway, even a horrendous screech that could only be the hellish fury of a scorned woman returning from death. All in all, the Hollow was a pain in the neck, and now it even had the nerve to shriek like a banshee, after bombarding the exhausted pair of shinigami with giant globs of venom. What a jerk.

He turned to inspect his partner's condition. "Rukia—"

He paused.

His kouhai stood motionless, her eyes fixed on the cleft in the air where the doors to Hell had closed. Her usual supercilious frown was absent from her face, and even the small spark of spunk that normally flickered in her eyes had disappeared behind a mask devoid of emotion. In her smoothed face, her rigid posture, Kaien searched for an inkling of the shocked shinigami he had expected to see. Rukia had just seen her first Hell-bound soul on a Hollow hunt, ever, but Kaien could not read her reaction in the slightest. If the girl had decided to shut away her emotions like a socially stunted noble, Kuchiki Byakuya be damned, Kaien would smack her head with Nejibana's hilt.

He snorted. Maybe he could provoke her to react. "You scared, little kouhai?"

Rukia's gaze broke off from the empty air. Though she did not glare openly at him, her mouth flattened into an affronted scowl. Now _there_ was a hint of the little spitfire he had seen in her, when the other officers only saw a snob.

"I'm not scared, just… convinced. Assured in my decision."

"Your decision?"

"To become a shinigami." Here, she smirked a little, probably recognizing the startled look on his face. She became serious again. "When I lived in the lower districts, I saw innocent souls killed by Hollows while their _saviors_, the shinigami, never came to the rescue. The murderers could just do as they pleased, and the warriors of justice were useless. I never understood the point of being a shinigami, if the people who were supposed to protect souls would just neglect them instead. Now I see: I am a shinigami for a reason. As a reaper of souls, I can bring rightness in the world."

She turned towards the entrance of the alleyway, smiling slightly as she spoke to him.

"This world is just. Murderers do come to suffer for their crimes."

**-mm-**

_Notes: As a disclaimer, my brainpower level is nearly nonexistent at the moment. English essays do that to me. Or, well, my procrastination on English essays, to be precise. If this doesn't flow in a logical way, that may have something to do with it._

_I really wanted to end this with Rukia's retort to Kaien calling her_ _"_little _kouhai", but I couldn't tie it in after that (hopefully) character-building moment for her._

_"Shrieking like a banshee" may not be the best reference to make in a scene from the point of view of a Japanese person, but I don't know if there's a good Japanese counterpart for the idea… something to learn about in the future, I suppose._

_Thank you for reading! Next up are Coyote Starrk and Lilynette Gingerbuck._


	3. January 19 - Coyote Starrk

**January 19 - Coyote Starrk**

"Oh," murmured the waitress. Recovering from her momentary surprise, she shut the door of the bar behind her. Reaching into her pocket, she drew out a key and locked the door. Her day's work complete, she stepped away from the entrance warily.

The man leaning against the wall paid her no heed. Eyes shut, arms limp, he barely moved. He barely breathed. His lips formed words, but she heard no sound.

She wondered if he was a drifter.

He had been sitting at the counter, the waitress recalled. He had ordered a glass of wine, and then he had stared at it aimlessly. When she passed by half an hour later, he had been staring a hole into the wall, ignoring the bartender's attempts to speak to him. Through the night, into the morning, he remained slumped over the counter, as the other patrons left one by one.

And now, here he stood.

She strode towards him, keeping her gaze intent on her car waiting just around the corner. If she didn't make eye contact, perhaps he wouldn't try anything. In the wee hours of the morning, in a place like this, you could never be too cautious.

He took a step forward. She let out a tiny shriek.

Her head turned involuntarily to watch his steps. Raising her gaze, she peered into his slate grey eyes…

He stared past her. His eyes had an odd, fond light to them, but it was not directed at her.

A foot from him, she could now hear his murmurs.

"What do you mean, Lily? I'm not hopeless. I'm not lazing around… I'm just waiting for you, y'know? Where did you go?"

She faltered. Maybe he was speaking to a past lover, or a lost loved one. Maybe…

"I never sleep anymore, because you're never there… And now I can't remember what your voice feels like…"

Maybe she could talk to him. Maybe she could ask him about this Lily, and comfort him in his time of loss, or embrace him and become his friend…

"I want to be one of them. I want to drown my sorrows at a bar, get myself dead drunk, come back home to a clean, well-lit place…"

Maybe she could…

"Why do I remain? What am I without you? _Why can't I die and join you?_"

Her breath caught in her throat.

"Please…"

Her car door fell open with a tiny _creak_. She slid into the seat and leaned over the driver's wheel.

A man stood by the dark, empty bar, raising his pale face to the moonlight.

She cried.

**-mm-**

_Notes: It turns out that it's really hard for me to write a serious story while listening to Super Junior's "Mamacita"... and other random absurd K-pop videos. I think only BEAST's "12:30" actually suited this scene XD SuJu's "Evanesce" would have been so much more appropriate._

_Fun fact: I'm a minor. I have no idea what bars are actually like. At least this scene takes place _outside_ one, technically._

_At a certain point, I realized that the scene idea I had was similar to Ernest Hemingway's "A Clean, Well-Lighted Place," so I ended up trying to make a reference to it. That line may have felt awkward, though. Admittedly, I'm not sure this scene actually ended up making sense or being cohesive._

_This scene actually kind of comes from an idea I had a long time ago, where I imagined what each Espada was like as a human, and then how his aspect of death fit his life. Since Starrk's is "Solitude," I ended up with a vague sense of loneliness with only the moon as witness... this is starting to feel like TS Eliot's "Memory" or something._

_Thank you for reading this weird piece of angst, anyway. Next up is Lilynette Gingerbuck (later today)._


	4. January 19 - Lilynette Gingerbuck

**January 19 - Lilynette Gingerbuck**

"That stupid, stupid man!"

Lilynette kicked the nearest wall. She stubbed her toe. Snarling, she continued stalking down the hall, muttering a stream of curses at her _unforgivably lazy _male counterpart.

"How am I supposed to wake him up by myself? The idiot sleeps like a log! He doesn't even react if I kick him!"

She tripped over something. Swearing again, Lilynette looked at the floor before her and blinked in surprise.

"Woof!"

_Yammy's dog_… Lilynette recognized the little thing. It usually just followed Yammy around, but it went crazy at dinnertime when the Espada had meat on the table. _It goes crazy for meat…_

An evil aura filled the air around the young Arrancar.

Kukkapuro whined and wagged his tail hesitantly.

* * *

><p>Coyote Starrk lay spread-eagle across his bed and snored, oblivious to the malevolent plan coming to fruition above him. A thin trail of drool oozed from one side of his mouth.<p>

"That's right, you idiot. Dream of the perfectly grilled meat… you won't get to eat it," muttered Lilynette, a diabolical grin spreading across her face.

Crouching down next to the sleeping Starrk, she surveyed her handiwork with a critical eye.

A giant smear of beef soup and soy sauce paraded up one pant leg and down the other. On his ribcage, a series of small piles of meat sat, still fresh and releasing steam. The vegetables from the soup had been arranged artfully to cover his arms. His pristine white outfit was utterly ruined. Tousen-sama wouldn't question the disappearance of Starrk's dinner portion, because Lilynette had already received the shinigami's permission to take the soup early. A tantalizing scent of simmered beef diffused through the room.

And now it was time for the finishing touch.

Giggling creepily, Lilynette lifted a small bottle of soy sauce and poked Starrk's face with it. The man snorted in his sleep.

She proceeded to cover his face in swirls of brown, sticky liquid.

_There. Perfect_. _It's time for the grand finale!_

"KUKKAPURO! I HAVE MEAT!"

* * *

><p>Coyote Starrk had never wanted to kill his female counterpart so much as he did in the moment he woke up to find a Hollow dog trying to eat his face.<p>

**-mm-**

_Notes: I figured that, since Coyote and Lilynette can be considered two separate characters, I'd better do something lighthearted alongside my weird piece of angst for Coyote._

_This is the first idea that came to mind XD Also, Kukkapuro is really cute... and absurdly loyal to an indifferent master._

_Suddenly I realize that, in the previous chapter, I should have said "steering wheel," not "driving wheel"… I will fix that. Someday. Probably._

_Thank you for reading! Next up is Yamamoto._


	5. January 21 - Yamamoto Genryuusai

**January 21**

A slow stream of pale liquid descended into the white expanse. With a soothing sound of pouring, the cup filled to just below the brim. The ornate chrysanthemum designs at the bottom were gradually submerged.

The flow of liquid came to a halt. A single drop escaped the spout, sending mirrored ripples across the surface of the tinted water.

The disciple straightened to kneel upright, shifting his weight back. He placed the teapot on its coaster with deft hands. He exhaled.

For a moment, he kneeled silently before the table, the very picture of tranquility and poise.

A stern hand smashed down on the table.

"Sasakibe Choujiro!"

"Yes, sir!" The disciple raised his head solemnly, awaiting his teacher's judgment.

"Do you recall that I instructed you _not_ to shake the pot around before pouring into the teacups?"

"Yes, sir. . ." admitted the disciple. "However, I thought it best to steep the tea more thoroughly before pouring it."

"Do you not see the stray tea leaves left at the bottom of the cups? Would you have your guests drink from a teacup with floating leaves? Are you not aware of how undisciplined you will appear?" thundered the Captain-Commander, his eyes flashing imperiously.

"However, I could have used a teabag instead, sir! It would have been more efficient," insisted Lieutenant Sasakibe.

"You cannot ignore the custom in such a way! Your newfangled _teabags_ cannot replace the time-honored tradition and dignity of this ceremony. The tea-pouring represents an integral part of our culture, promoting grace and precision in movement. It is simple courtesy to brew tea without unnecessary detritus muddying the tea's complexion. You shall brew another pot of tea, but this time. . . " The Captain-Commander trailed off.

_"Choujiro!_"

The Lieutenant was raising a teacup to his lips, studying the pale shade of the tea. In a rapid motion, he lifted the cup and gulped down half its contents.

"Hmm… personally, I prefer Earl Grey, but this ginseng tea is not so bad."

"_Sasakibe Choujiro!_ You will put down that sullied _leaf broth_ this instant!"

"Yes, sir!"

**-mm-**

_Notes: Originally, I was thinking of writing something darker, concerning recent events with these two characters in canon, but I'm too cheerful right now to write something depressing XD_

_I wish Kubo had gone into more depth with Sasakibe in canon. For one thing, he only ever had the chance to show off his badassery posthumously, through his stolen bankai… Also, the odd relationship of mutual respect that he had with Yamamoto in one flashback was interesting._

_I'm basically writing a series of omake, aren't I? I have just realized that the lighthearted scenes are pretty much just omake..._

_I'm not quite sure why I chose to write this scene centered around tea. I've only had tea once in my whole life XD_

_Because I put way too much thought into what kind of design Yamamoto would have on his tea set, I ended up looking up symbolism for chrysanthemums, since they were a flower that popped into my head (after camellia, which was first). I found this description: "A symbol of the sun, the Japanese consider the orderly unfolding of the chrysanthemum's petals to represent perfection, and Confucius once suggested they be used as an object of meditation. It's said that a single petal of this celebrated flower placed at the bottom of a wine glass will encourage a long and healthy life." -the Teleflora website_

_I didn't even realize that the chrysanthemum was the First Division's insignia when I chose it for the tea set, but hey, it fits quite well then. In fact, the description of chrysanthemums above reminds me of Watanuki's chrysanthemum wine in xxxHolic..._

_In any case, thank you for reading! Next up is Loly Aivirrne._


	6. January 27 - Loly Aivirrne

**January 27 - Loly Aivirrne**

She gasped into the frozen air, her breath solidifying instantly before her panicked face.

Her hands trembled, from cold, or from fear. Glancing around, she saw the courtyard glazed over in impossible ice. The artificial trees began to crack and shatter under the burgeoning weight. The walls shone beneath their icy layers, reflecting the empty gray sky overhead. Within the courtyard, the wintry air claimed everything in sight, and all around her, nothing stirred.

_If I don't move, I will become like this. Frozen, hopeless, useless. I will not bow down! I will not wait for the cold to overcome me!_

Fumbling for her zanpakutou, she cursed and struggled to remain upright. Her limbs shuddered with the effort, and her head began to sink towards her chest. A wavering darkness swam at the edges of her vision. She felt her eyes closing, her knees slamming into the ground, her body refusing to respond to her frantic commands…

"Loly, enough!"

Her head suddenly cleared. She knelt on the floor of an empty courtyard in Las Noches. Menoly rushed towards her with an anguished facial expression.

"Are you okay? I don't know what my zanpakutou showed you, but I promise you, it wasn't real! So don't look terrified like that, okay?" Menoly held out a hand to help her stand.

"Shut up! You're the 34th Arrancar, remember? There's no way you overpowered me! There's no way your _illusions_ scared me!" Loly snapped, slapping away the offered help.

_That's right_, she told herself. _Menoly's zanpakutou just creates illusions. It can't even affect my reality in any way… it is weaker than me. She's weaker than me! _I _am the 33__rd__ Arrancar._

"I don't think we should continue this for now, Loly. If Lord Aizen calls on us to serve him right now, we'll both be fatigued, and we might have trouble with our duties." Menoly stared at her friend beseechingly, trying to reason with the stubborn Arrancar.

"Don't be stupid. We will continue until I decide to stop. In this time, especially, I can't just sit around waiting for war with the shinigami! I need to become stronger, to become better, to become more useful to Lord Aizen! If that means that I have to fight against your _pathetic_ illusion zanpakutou to train, then we'll fight!" Loly shouted, glaring at Menoly defiantly. When the other girl made no motion to continue her attack, Loly slapped her across the face.

"Loly, please…"

"I will not become useless to Lord Aizen the way those idiot Privaron Espada have!"

Loly spat on the ground in scorn.

_I will not become a weak, useless tool. I will not stop moving forward._

**-mm-**

_Notes: The first part of this scene is definitely inspired by my snow day today. I love snow, but it's freaking cold outside._

_Loly is not a character I'm familiar with at all, so I went to read summaries of who she is and what she did in the span of canon. Somehow, the feeling of aggressiveness and motivation and recklessness that I got from her inspired this scene. The way I see it, Loly is more rash and always wants concrete results, so her zanpakutou (which appears in canon) very visibly eats away at everything it touches. Menoly's zanpakutou does not appear in canon, but because she tends to be more passive and willing to wait than Loly, the idea of an illusion zanpakutou that only appears to bring change to her world seemed to suit her. In my mind, Menoly's illusions are based on fear, rather like As Nodt's, but hers aren't as all-consuming and rely on the exaggerated reaction of the target._

_I also thought that Loly would lash out if she even began to think that Menoly might be able to overpower her, so I had that happen. She already knows that Aizen is completely willing to throw away a tool that is no longer useful, so she would not react well to any perceived weaknesses in herself. So her fear, to me, is a fear of ceasing to develop and move forward, or a fear of being frozen in a single state._

_Thank you for reading! Next up is Kuchiki Byakuya._


	7. January 31 - Kuchiki Byakuya

**January 31 - Kuchiki Byakuya**

He inhaled the wintry air slowly, feeling it spread bitingly down his throat and through his lungs. The snow crunched with each step as he neared the maple tree at the edge of the Kuchiki compound. The trees on either side of him bowed down their heads towards the path, groaning under their snowy burden. He stepped between them, careful not to let his silken sleeves touch the snow.

He passed the last of the stone benches, buried beneath its own sheath of white, and turned into the last grove of the garden. Within the thick wall of intertwined pine trees, a single maple tree stood alone, bare branches stretching into the sky. As he watched, a burst of wind sent a shower of snow over the clearing, leaving a momentary haze of white in the air around the tree.

There she knelt. A thin robe in heavy shades of blue hung from her hunched shoulders. She bent her head over something slowly taking shape between her fingers. With her pale skin and the fine Kuchiki yukata, she could have been a pale maiden painted onto a lacquer screen, or a fine vase. The seamless scene of white could have been crafted from porcelain and glaze all around her small shape, as if with just a tiny push, her world would topple and shatter into unrecognizable pieces.

She looked up as he approached.

"Hello, Byakuya-san," she said. A trickle of snowy powder fell through her fingers.

"Hisana, you should return to the house. You will make yourself fall ill."

She hummed faintly. "I wanted to go to the Rukongai today, but the attendants wouldn't let me go into the storm. What can I do, Byakuya-san?"

"I would suggest that you return to the warmth inside. You may search for your sister another day. The frigid weather is not conducive to anyone's health."

"Exactly—what if Rukia-chan is shivering out in the cold somewhere? What if she has no blanket, what if her clothes are too small and she can't cover her knees?"

He inclined his head silently. "Even so, if you fall sick yourself, you will find it even harder to help her."

Hisana sighed. "Okay. I'll go inside after I finish." She gestured at the snowy shape in front of her.

Byakuya strode to her side and peered down at the tiny sculpture. It was a small rabbit, with fragile ears and a half-formed tail. With a solemn facial expression, he reached into the snow bank at his side and grasped a clump of snow. He placed his handful of snow on top of the half-tail and patted it down.

As he sculpted the tail carefully, his wife watched him with a bemused smile. Finally, satisfied with the result of his work, Byakuya glanced up and met her curious stare.

"Is something the matter?" he inquired.

She merely smiled. "No, Byakuya-san."

Lifting her own handful of snow, she filled out the rest of the rabbit's shape.

"Thank you for your help, Byakuya-san."

**-mm-**

_Notes: That awkward moment when I'm a day off in terms of the date of the month. Ahem... Please ignore the fact that I spent the last three days thinking that the first of February was tomorrow XD_

_I was actually thinking of having a funny moment at the end, where we realize that Hisana also has the _unique _Kuchiki art style, and Byakuya can't figure out what her sculpture is. But then I thought that that idea didn't fit with the vaguely melancholy feeling of the scene, so I ended up not writing that._

_While reading over things about both Hisana and Byakuya for this scene, I realized that both their names have characters having to do with color: Hisana includes "scarlet", and Byakuya's has "white". The "white" is obviously already present in my story from all the snow. Because of "scarlet", I tried to think of a tree of that color, and I ended up with the Japanese maple (which I love, so I'm glad). And once again, because I like symbolism too much, I looked up the symbolism for that tree. According to the "Universe of Symbolism" site, "The Japanese Maple signifies great blessings and peaceful retreat."_

_Also, I tried to make a reference to Rukia's zanpakutou with the phrase "haze of white". Come to think of it, I wanted to use "scatter", too... but I forgot._

_I'm actually not sure how Hisana should address her husband, because I'm not familiar with Japanese forms of address. If anyone could tell me how that works, that would be lovely._

_Thank you for reading this belated installment of "La caza empieza"! Next up is Yadomaru Lisa._


	8. February 3 - Yadoumaru Lisa

_I feel like maybe this one should be rated T. Just a warning._

**February 3 - Yadoumaru Lisa**

"I've got a pretty prize, and no one else can take it from _meeeeee_—" Hirako Shinji sang in an obnoxious falsetto, skipping into the shinigami lieutenant's lounge.

"Hirako. Shut up."

"Aw, are you sure you don't want to know what it is, Hiyori-chan?"

A sandal flew across the room and smacked Shinji across the face.

"I'll bite," called Matsumoto from the couch to one side. "What did you do?"

"I defiled the shrine of the fake kuudere. I stole one of Lisa's books!" Shinji announced, ducking as the sandal's partner whipped towards his head. "I knew she was sneaking around the eleventh division somewhere earlier, so I went into her office! I was half-expecting to find a hidden layer of porn behind the kidou books she had in her bookcase, but no luck… so I decided to leave her some in place of her copy of _A History of the Spirit Court_! I even switched the covers so she wouldn't notice at first."

"Why should I care, you dolt? Go annoy someone else," Hiyori muttered.

"Oh, Hiyori-chan, it's okay! I know, secretly, you care, deep down somewhere in the depths of your violent soul! If Lisa's a false kuudere, then you're a tsundere!"

"Shut up or I'll rearrange your face."

"Look, not to interrupt your little spat or anything, but Hirako-taichou? You know that today's the first of the month, right?" questioned Matsumoto, kicking up her feet across the couch.

"Yeah, why?"

"Today's when Lisa reads to that little squirt from her division. The kid is a huge Soul Society history nerd…." explained Matsumoto, picking at the couch's stitching.

Hiyori trained a murderous gaze on the suddenly pale captain.

"…They were going to read _A History of the Spirit Court_ today. Though that's not going to go according to plan, obviously."

"Well, damn." Shinji tried not to glance at the opposite side of the room. Of course he couldn't feel a murderous aura radiating from a midget lieutenant. Of course he wasn't about to cause the corruption of a little shinigami… Of course Hiyori-chan wouldn't beat his brains in for this.

"_Hirako Shinji, are you trying to corrupt the new shinigami with your idiocy?!_"

"Hiyori-cha, wait! I—"

A multitude of objects from around the lounge met Shinji's face in an impressively short frame of time.

"It was nice knowing you, Hirako-taichou." Matsumoto leaned back in her couch to watch the show, smirking slightly.

* * *

><p>"Captain Kyoraku, you gotta save us!"<p>

"Captain Kyoraku, this idiot screwed something up royally again! We need help!"

The Captain of the Eighth Division looked up from his afternoon cup of tea and balked at the pair of frantic officers rushing at him. Hiyori-chan had the sleeves of her robe rolled up over her elbows, as if she were preparing to give someone a beating… or if she had just given someone good one.

Captain Hirako's face had certainly seen better days.

"What's wrong? Surely the world's ending, if the two of you agree on something." Kyoraku said, trying not to stare openly at the colorful assortment of wounds across Shinji's scowling face.

"Captain Kyoraku, where's Lisa? We need to find her, pronto." Hiyori snarled, smacking Shinji in the back of the head when he opened his mouth to chime in.

"She is currently in the Eighth Division barracks with our newest recruit, Nanao-chan. Oh, my darling lieutenant, what would I do without her?" praised the Captain with an exaggerated swoon.

"Has she started reading to the kid yet?" demanded Hiyori.

"You can hardly call her a kid, Hiyori-chan. Your full height probably barely reaches her chin."

"Shut up, dogface! I'm talking to the Captain!" Hiyori snatched one of her sandals and lifted it threateningly.

"But Hiyori-chan, I'm a Captain _too_," whined Shinji, dodging the wooden projectile once again.

"No, I don't think Lisa-chan will be reading to Nanao-chan for a while yet," Captain Kyoraku interjected, in the hopes of salvaging what was left of Shinji's facial features. "In fact, my darling lieutenant was going to—"

"Thanks for your help, Captain Kyoraku!" Hiyori grabbed Shinji's arm and hauled him from the office, before disappearing in a flash of shunpo.

Captain Kyoraku pouted. Why did the lieutenants never let him finish speaking? _Lisa, are you corrupting your kouhai? _He wondered. _Hiyori-chan just cut off my helpful suggestions the way you always do. At least she didn't hit me with a history book while scolding me, though…_

**-mm-**

_Notes: Hooray, I made the mistake of reading amazing crossover fic right before my physics midyears. I've added a second section now. However, thanks to my questionable study habits, I'm going to continue this story later... At the moment it kind of feels Lisa's story has nothing to do with her XD_

_Thank you for reading! Next up is Tsukishima Shukuro, and the rest of this one._


	9. February 4 - Tsukishima Shukuro

**February 4 - Tsukishima Shukuro**

_The poor fools_, thought Tsukishima to himself. He tried not to glare at them. They would only grovel at his feet for forgiveness if he did.

The girl was amusing, he supposed. She kept staring at him with this ridiculous besotted expression, as if he were her savior or her first crush or something like that. Of course, according to her, he was. So now, to thank her "savior," the redhead kept offering him odd concoctions from her apartment: peanut-butter-and-lychee cookies, buckwheat noodles with tartar sauce, onion-and-jam casserole, and who knew what else.

He would fend off hordes of undead spirits for her if it meant she would keep that nasty mush away from him. When the girl's attention was diverted for a moment, he shuddered discreetly. What kind of freak would enjoy that abomination she called food? No wonder she'd had trouble with her parents, or whoever it was that Tsukishima had supposedly saved her from.

He idly flipped a page in the book on his lap, resting a finger against the spine. Dealing with the girl's insistent coddling could wait. Maybe he could start reading the new "history" his Book of the End had written for these poor sods.

He ignored the steady stare trained at his back from the giant in the corner of the room. What was the problem with that kid? Most people expressed their affection towards their "family friends" with cheerful conversation, not wordless stares, right?

Now _this_ one baffled Tsukishima. The boy didn't even look Japanese, to be honest, but Tsukishima was not inclined to ask him about his history. Though a personal story might be better than the narrative account the Book of the End would give, the boy would only tell him about a load of false memories. The kid didn't look like the chatty sort who would babble Tsukishima's head off the way the girl did, however… Perhaps Tsukishima could ask the boy about it without receiving an hour's worth of drivel.

Tsukishima would take a gamble on that. He needed something to do while the little reaper was taking his own sweet time to come home, anyway. Why couldn't the kid hurry to save his annoying friends a little faster?

Tsukishima turned around and faced the giant. "Hey," he muttered, unsure of the boy's name.

"Hey."

"Say, you remember the story of when we met, right?" At the boy's nod, Tsukishima continued. "Want to tell the story again? We might as well do something before my dear cousin Ichigo arrives."

For a moment, silence settled within the living room.

_Oh hell_, Tsukishima thought. _The kid actually _blushed. _Now I'm sure I don't want to know what he worships me for_.

"Well—"

"Actually, I am feeling a bit hungry," Tsukishima interrupted hurriedly. "Could you two—" he gestured at the pair of teens in the room—"go ask my little cousin in the kitchen if she has anything for me?" _Whatever my so-called cousin's name is_.

"Of course!" chirped the girl, tugging the boy away towards the kitchen.

Tsukishima leaned back into the uncomfortable sofa and sighed. Violating others' memories and inserting himself into their histories was such a tiresome business.

**-mm-**

_Notes: This scene turned out to be a lot more... I dunno, snarky, than I had imagined it to be. Probably because I'm still reading Supernatural crossover fic..._

_I have always wondered, though, about the details of Tsukishima's ability. While canon made the effect of the Book of the End on Orihime and Chad apparent, there wasn't as much of Tsukishima's actual reaction to suddenly being loved by random strangers, even if it was by his own design. This scene resulted from my curiosity about his powers._

_Thank you for reading! Next up is Baraggan Louisenbairn._


	10. February 9 - Baraggan Louisenbairn

**February 9 - Baraggan Louisenbairn**

High up in the mountains, at the center of a mighty fortress, the old man sat on his throne and scowled at the world.

The rigid edges of his metal seat dug into his back. The smooth stone surface of the floor sent a chill into his feet. His gnarled hands clutched the arms of his throne desperately, as sharp as the edges were, and always, he felt the crown, a constant weight atop his head. He griped and groaned endlessly.

The men all around him paid no heed. Rushing through with cloaks or weapons or papers in hand, they ran on to wherever they were headed, ignoring the old man on the throne. He, in turn, watched them scramble about, his beady eyes following them around the room.

Presently, he realized that a certain pair of men seemed to be having a conversation about him. They whispered to each other hurriedly and shot him furtive glances every now and then. Perhaps they wished to usurp his throne.

"You, there!" he called, forcing down the cough that threatened to leave his throat. "You will speak plainly to your king or not at all!"

They both turned towards him, taken aback, before their whispers continued with an increased urgency.

"You have the impudence to ignore me? Come here or face my wrath!"

To his astonishment, they carried on in spite of his summons. What, could they not see their king beckoning them to him? Did they think him a ghost, incorporeal and inconsequential in this world of hurried men? He would teach _them_ to disregard their superior!

This time a cough did escape his cracked lips, and he bent over in his throne, feeling an attack of coughing overcome him for a moment.

One of the men broke off the conversation and approached the massive throne. He came to an uncertain stop several paces from its base. He paused there, ignoring the others bustling around him, and waited for the old man to cough.

"Sir, are you feeling quite alright?" inquired the brazen young man.

"I am well. What have you been whispering about, you ungrateful brat?" spat the old man, leaning forward in his throne with a thin sneer.

"Well, sir, we believe that… perhaps you should retire to your chambers. The night is cold, and—"

"Do not insult my strength! I will see over my fortress as I see fit!"

"And you really had better… take a moment for yourself, sir, as the fortress is running itself just fine at the moment—"

"Hogwash! I could never entrust my fortress to you young fools. Who are these men? Why do they approach my throne?"

"And in that interest, sir, we wish to help you, so it would be best if you could come with these gentlemen quietly—"

"I will go nowhere! Unhand me, you barbarians! I will—I will have you flayed alive—"

"It will be alright, sir. Please calm down."

"I'll have all your heads spiked up on the outer wall! The things I will do to you heathenish curs—"

"That is enough, sir. We will take care of you."

The old man's curses fell on empty air.

"Your time has come."

**-mm-**

_Notes: This continues the series-within-a-series for the Espada, which started with Coyote's scene of loneliness. This scene, of course, is old age/time, for Baraggan._

_I think I channeled some _King Lear _into this... the "old age" idea certainly takes precedence in the play as well. And futility, and senility..._

_Thank you for reading! Next up is Soi-Feng._


	11. February 11 - Sui Feng

**February 11 - Sui Feng**

"One. Two. Three…" counted the voice in an even, measured tone.

There was an older, higher-ranked shinigami lurking somewhere in the trees to the left.

"Four. Five. Six," the voice droned on. Kita shivered, ducking down farther behind a low wall and trying to pull his spiritual presence farther in towards himself.

Ama-chan was somewhere behind him. The other recently admitted recruits had long disappeared to different corners of the training area, leaving trails of dust behind them for a moment. Of course, before a single one of them had stepped off, all the seasoned officers of the Second Division were out of sight. The Academy instructors had told him that he had the potential to reach that level of stealth one day, and he had believed them… but now, here he was, cowering behind a crumbling wall, with a predator out there lying in wait.

The Captain stood at the center of the enclosed space, still calling out her count with her eyes closed. From several meters away, Kita imagined that a shadow swept across her stern features, twisting her solemn face into a malicious smile. She was the hornet, the killer wasp, a true assassin in all her dark, ruthless glory. She wasn't even facing his direction, but he knew she would strike in a heartbeat, and he'd have to flee, to fight back, to do whatever it took to escape her venomous sting…

"Fifty. Your time is up."

The hunt was on.

"Hmm. Where might you be, my fledgling assassins?" She strode past his wall, seemingly ignoring his presence behind it. He barely heard the sound of a dagger sliding from her sleeve into her palm.

His breath stalled in his throat.

The blade was at his shoulder before he could recover, and he drew a stiletto of his own without a thought. From then on, there were no conscious thoughts—only instinctive lunges, slashes, and a spreading pain in his shoulder where she had first cut him.

The fight, if it could be called that, was laughably one-sided. To be truthful, Captain Sui-Feng dealt him a brutal beat-down, and Kita just desperately tried to put his decent Flash Step skills to use.

As if he could ever outpace the student of the Flash Step Goddess herself.

Finally, he fell to his knees and let the stiletto drop between his fingers. "I surrender," he admitted to the terrifying woman in front of him.

A graceful hand picked up his weapon, brushed off the dirt on the hilt, and held the stiletto out to him. Startled, he accepted the stiletto in a weak grip, glancing up at his Captain.

"Good effort, recruit," declared his Captain with a smirk.

He stared up in awe.

"Now get to the Fourth Division before you bleed to death from your shoulder." She turned and barked at her lieutenant. "Omaeda! Take this recruit to Captain Unohana's healers! Get a move on!"

**-mm-**

_Notes: I had multiple ideas for Sui Feng's scene, some of which involved antagonizing dogs because of her love for black cats... I ended up going with the Second Division's deadly game of hide-and-seek instead, though._

_Hooray for uploading this doc before my computer could eat it again! Apparently my laptop has decided that Word documents are pretty darn tasty._

_Thank you for reading! Next up is Kusajishi Yachiru._


	12. February 12 - Kusajishi Yachiru

**February 12 - Kusajishi Yachiru**

"Captain, this is a bad idea."

"Uh… Captain, what exactly are we doing?"

"Oh my god! My hair!"

"SHUT UP, THE LOT OF YOU!" Zaraki Kenpachi glared around at all his subordinates. "Now follow Yachiru." He ignored the grumbling men and turned to his lieutenant. "Ready, Yachiru?"

"Mm-hmm!" the girl chirped. "Let's go!"

She led the way into darkness.

* * *

><p>Ayasegawa Yumichika was mortified. His hair adornments were squashed under the headband, his once-pristine sleeves had been shoved up to accommodate the ridiculous gloves, and Captain hadn't even given him time to fix his eyeliner! What if one of the other ranking officers saw him in such a disheveled state? What if Captain forced him to wear this for the rest of the day? <em>What if his feathers were irreparably damaged forever?<em>

"Stop whining, Ayasegawa. It's not like you don't already look stupid normally anyway." The unfashionable heathen snorted. "Captain forcing you into a cat costume doesn't make you look any worse."

"Oh, sure, you can talk because your face suits the ugly ensemble so well. You already had the spindly whiskers and squinty eyes of an aging cat. You just needed the ears and the giant paws from Captain to complete your pathetic look."

While the unbeautiful moron spluttered, Yumichika flipped a lock of hair over his shoulder with one padded paw and flounced away.

* * *

><p>Madarame Ikkaku was doomed. His lieutenant was going to leave him in this dark, dank hole, and then he'd get lost in the labyrinth and die of starvation, or maybe poisoning once he started to gnaw on the rocks in the tunnel out of desperation…<p>

_I'm going to die, and if they ever find me, I'll come back to life just so I can die again of embarrassment. Where the hell did Captain get these cat-ear headbands?_

"Hurry up, Baldy!" yelled the tiny demoness from farther down the tunnel. "We won't be able to find the snacks otherwise!"

Why did she have a system of secret tunnels under Captain Kuchiki's mansion anyway? How had the stiff captain never noticed the pink ball of evil wandering around through his halls? Why did she expect to find a treasure trove of snacks _here_?

"Candy, candy, candy, candy, candy…" sang Yachiru, skipping away into the darkness.

Most importantly, why did Captain decide that the best way to celebrate Yachiru's birthday was to run around like a bunch of cat-cosplaying idiots? _Tunnel-obsessed_ cat-cosplaying idiots.

Not everyone in the Eleventh Division had Yachiru's _unique _hobbies. Ikkaku groaned.

"Next time, we'll tell him to just set up an all-out battle tournament to the death for the entire Division… just like we do every other day."

**-mm-**

_Notes: I have found the dark recesses of my brain where grown men run around in cat costumes searching for snacks below Byakuya's basement. Indeed._

_I have no idea where this came from, but I enjoyed it. XD My original idea was: "Kenpachi holds a questionable birthday party for Yachiru". I was also intending to have some bit with Kenpachi going around asking what he should do for the celebration... so then he'd kidnap Nemu, because she always seems to know how to appease Yachiru, and Ukitake, because Ukitake always has snacks on him (so he can try to force them on Toshiro)._

_Yes, this is what my brain looks like._

_Thank you for reading! Next up is Cyan Sung-Sun._


	13. February 17 - Cyan Sung-Sun

**February 17 - Cyan Sung-Sun**

"He's dead, you know."

Hearing no response, she held a handful of sand and let it drain between her fingers.

"He's never coming back. You're waiting for nothing."

She trailed one sleeve's edge along the sand aimlessly.

"Hey. Do you remember him at all? Were you just attracted to his power?"

Grabbing a fistful of sand, she tossed the grains above her head and watched them catch the light in midair before disappearing into the ground once again.

"That's how it all began, isn't it? You felt that presence, so much stronger and steadier than your own, and you felt _safe_. You had a master, and you followed, faithfully, through the endless deserts. The sun never rose, the desert winds never came, and your strides never faltered."

She stood up, her feet sinking into the blank sands underneath.

"Then that _shinigami_ strolled in and tried to arrange us into some sort of order and regularity. As if a single number could encapsulate all that we were. As if the change of a single digit could overwrite the strength we had within us. As if the Hollows rose and fell merely by _his_ whim."

Lifting her zanpakutou between languid fingers, she pointed the blade at the empty sands before her.

"To him, we were all the same. We were so many grains of sand passing through his fingers, uniform, interchangeable. We stayed beneath him, holding his stupid throne up, and then he watched us crumble. He stabbed Lady Harribel in the back, and forced us to crawl our way back to Hueco Mundo, our world of night."

She slashed at the air before her and held her blade there, narrowing her eyes.

"And now he's gone, and only his bone-white fortress is left. His throne is broken. He is long dead. Our hierarchy of before is meaningless—even the Arrancar ranked higher than Lady Harribel fell in the war. We have left that war that meant nothing to us. We have left that demeaning existence that tried to tame us. _Why do we remain here_?"

Her blade fell into the sand with a thump, her hand still outstretched.

"I wish I could be simple like you. Like Mila and Apacchi. You have no master. Lady Harribel has no master, and Mila and Apacchi have no brains to think for themselves. You all just mindlessly stay around this crumbling fortress because you don't know what else to do. Do you forget how we roamed the sands before, striking down nearby Hollows because we could? Do you need a _shinigami_ to force you into action now, because Aizen is gone? Do you expect me to wait until I rot away with you in this dead place?"

With a snarl, she let a dark Cero fly from her palm. Where it landed, she did not see.

The dog at her feet shook the sand off his back and ran away.

"Even if you run away, you will find no one to make your decisions for you! Yammy's dead! Waiting around here is meaningless!"

She tugged an escaping strand of hair back behind her ear and placed her zanpakutou back in its sheath.

"You can wait all you like, but you will never find whatever it is that you're expecting."

Turning on her heel, she walked back to the silent fortress.

**-mm-**

_Notes: This was sort of fun. Huh._

_One of my original ideas was to make Sung-Sun get bored of Las Noches and watching Mila Rose and Apacchi bicker, so then she would go off into the desert and secretly make sand sculptures by herself. XD The summary for that would be: "__Sung-Sun gets bored. Harribel is busy, and the primates are only entertaining for so long before she wants to rip their heads off…"_

_I also wrote the first line to a scene where Sung-Sun would talk to the empty desert instead, but Kukkapuro wanted to be in another random scene, I guess. I wonder what I should do for his birthday... (It's in April.)_

_Thank you for reading! Oh, and thank you to everyone who has subscribed 3:)_

_Next up is Cirucci Sanderwicci (whose last name is sometimes Thunderwitch?)._


	14. February 27 - Cirucci Sanderwicci

**February 27 - Cirucci Sanderwicci**

_Thump. Groan… Thump. THUD. _The heavy nightstand fell to the ground and left a set of claw-shaped indents in the hallway floor.

"I feel like a pack mule. Scrap that, I _am_ a pack mule. Why must I put up with this?!"

"Shut up."

_Scrape. Scrape. Screeeeeeeech. _The nightstand-carrier glanced over the nasty gashes he had carved into the floor and winced. Why would anyone want a nightstand with wicked claws for feet? For that matter, why would anyone want a nightstand that looked like an iron maiden crossed with a Judas chair? If it weren't for his solid Hierro protecting his flesh, the "decorative" spikes would have turned his hands to mincemeat. The claws only dug further into the mutilated floor when he tried to lift them.

"Hey, watch it, you overgrown ape! That's some of my best furniture right there! You'd better carry it with care. Your life depends on that, you hear me?"

Three Privaron Espada inched down a hallway in Las Noches, backs bent double to transport a set of the most outrageous furniture ever known to man or Arrancar.

"No one should ever keep a chair this spiky," Gantenbainne moaned. "It's a public safety hazard. How do you sit in it without impaling your backside?"

"The lady's behind has some potent padding in the form of her giant-sized skirt," offered Dordoni. "Perhaps her outfit serves for more than just accentuating her awkward physical form."

Cirucci shifted the table that rested across her shoulders to pull out Golondrina threateningly. "If you didn't have my precious nightstand on your back, I would blast you with a Cero!"

"You have a perilously pointy burden of your own on your back. That would be difficult," pointed out Gantenbainne.

"I wasn't finished! I _would _blast you with a Cero if I _could_. As it is, I'll settle for _this_." Huffing superciliously, Cirucci hoisted up her table and dropped it on top of the nightstand with a _thunk_. Dordoni suddenly found his face inches from the ground, his body crushed under twice as much public safety hazard as before.

With a flounce, Cirucci turned away and jumped onto the hazardous chair. She settled into the seat with a sigh, ignoring Gantenbainne's muted whimper as he imagined his spine creaking under the added weight.

"So I was right," wheezed Dordoni, "it's the giant skirt that saves your sorry behind."

He barely saw Cirucci coming before his face met the ground at an alarming velocity. Now he had an enraged banshee of a woman on his back along with the double safety hazard. Screeching angrily, the added burden spat curses at him and suddenly leaped into the air, landing on top of the furniture/Dordoni pile with a decisive _crunch_.

Gantenbainne would have mourned his comrade's near-death by nightstand if he could. However, just as he knew that Dordoni was now well and truly finished, he knew that he would join the heap of flesh and splinters on the floor if Cirucci thought he was opposing her.

He really would have mourned if he could. As it was, he would settle for watching Cirucci finally pound that ridiculous mustache out of existence.

**-mm-**

_Notes: This became so violent. I mean, that was the plan, but wow, this became so violent. XD_

_Basically, the idea behind this scene is that Cirucci has just become a Privaron Espada with Dordoni and Gantenbainne. Now that she's moving house into Tres Cifras, she more or less forces Gantenbainne and Dordoni to help with the furniture, ahem, public safety hazards._

_This must be the least serious fic about losing an Espada rank in existence._

_I have an idea for a continuation to this. Or, rather, it was supposed to be part of this, but apparently Cirucci had to beat the pulp out of Dordoni before anything else happened. I might write it and add it on later..._

_Side note: so is her last name Sanderwicci or Thunderwitch?_

_Thanks for reading! Next up is Ishida Ryuuken._


End file.
